


5 times bull did a thing and 1 time dorian did a thing

by whodunit



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 5+1 Things, Dating, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:51:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3195941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whodunit/pseuds/whodunit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Bull planned a date, and then one time Dorian did.</p><p>no plot. mostly an excuse to write indulgent fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 times bull did a thing and 1 time dorian did a thing

**Author's Note:**

> to be honest primarily written to indulge my need for dorian to have one of these guys: http://voices.nationalgeographic.com/files/2014/03/animal-mustache-Emperor-tamarin-01.jpg

1.

Bull hadn’t meant to buy Dorian a pet. It had just sort of happened.

The boss had dragged them along to Val Royeaux on business, and then given everyone a few hours to tend to errands if they so wished. Which basically meant boss wanted time to mull over curtains and beds, and they weren’t going home until boss had bought out the shop.

Bull and Dorian took the time to meander amongst the backstreet vendors, trying to outdo one another with spotting the most outlandish wares. Bull was the one who noticed the pet shop, and Dorian the one who wanted to go inside.

Inside was a collection of strange animals. Foreign birds with brightly colored feathers, snakes with eyes like jewels, tiny nugs that would fit in a teacup. But the most interesting was the monkey seated on a perch in the back.

Bull had seen drawings of monkeys before, but never one in the flesh. It was smaller than he would have thought.

“Oh,” Dorian had said, with that little surprised noise he made sometimes, when something had genuinely shocked and pleased him. “A tamarin. I haven’t seen one since I was a boy.”

“You recognize this thing?” Bull squinted at it. The little guy saw him looking, and covered one eye with its paw and squinted back.

“They were all the rage when I was young,” Dorian elaborated, still entranced by it. He edged closer. “I remember wanting one, but my father, he didn’t approve. I was so jealous when my cousin got one.” Dorian reached out his hand, and it grabbed hold of one of his fingers, nibbling at it. It then crawled down his arm to sit on his shoulder, about as far as the leash attached to its collar let it go, and its little paws began grooming at the hair above Dorian’s ear.

Bull had to admit, it was cute in a bizarre sort of way. The whole thing could fit in the palm of his hand, tail and all. The white hair sweeping out from its face like a white mustache was also kind of charming. Made it look like a little old man.

What Bull found really charming, though, was how taken Dorian seemed with it.

“I’ll buy it for you,” he said, on impulse.

“What now?” Dorian half-laughed, as he got a hold of the creature and pulled it away from his head. It wrapped its trail around his wrist and then amused itself started trying to undo one of the buckles on his arm.

“You like it. And it seems to like you.”

Dorian had been down lately. Missing his homeland, though he’d never admit it. Having a piece of Tevinter might be good for him.

“‘Sides, it reminds me of you.” Bull made a vague swirling motion about his face. “You both have the same facial hair thing going on.”

 

2.

Dorian had been complaining to Bull lately about the state of the hold’s library.

“I got a place I think you might like,” Bull told him one night, after Dorian finished ranting that maybe, just maybe if he convinced the Inquisitor you could beat people to death with books, said Inquisitor might actually put some effort into acquiring some. “We can go check it out tomorrow.”

Dorian seemed skeptical, even more so when that place turned out to be down a dark alleyway in the backstreets of a small city of Orlais.

But once Bull pushed open the front doors, that skepticism disappeared.

Inside was a large bookshop, new publications mixed in among antique and hard to find copies. The owner was a bit of an eccentric, not too fond of customers for all that he owned a shop--hence the difficulty in finding the place--but Bull had done the man a favor in the past.

Dorian immediately rushed off to search amongst the wares, Bull all but forgotten.

Bull amused himself for some time flipping through different books. Eventually all the dust got to be a bit much for him, and he found an armchair in a back corner. He dozed off, waiting for Dorian to come find him.

He was startled awake by Dorian perching on the armrest, book clasped in his hands. Dorian settled back against Bull’s shoulder and cracked the book open to begin reading. Then slowly, he inched further and further over, until he slid into Bull’s lap, still never looking up from his book.

Bull curled an arm around him so he wouldn’t fall off, and drifted back into his nap. They would stay as long as Dorian wanted.

 

3.

Bull had quickly learned Dorian had little patience for the Orlesian plays.

“Too full of nonsense intrigue and side plots that never get resolved,” he’d explained, when he’d turned down Bull’s suggestion they go to one. “Like being back home, but not in a good way.”

However, he did have a taste for lower brow entertainment, despite his protests to the contrary. The trick was getting him to go to a performance. You couldn’t tell him outright, or he’d refuse to go. You had to be sneakier than that. Like pretending to get lost in the city and then just happening to stumble across a performance.

“For someone who’s spent so much time traveling, you’re certainly horrible with directions,” Dorian grumbled. “If we’re waylaid with attempted murdered, I expect you to do all the fighting.”

“I’m sure it’s around here somewhere,” Bull said, and they rounded a corner. “And, oh, hey, would you look at that.”

The street opened up into a small plaza. Gathered in the center were Orlesian street performers, getting ready to put on a show. A large crowd had already gathered.

“Wonderful. Well, at least with crowds like this, we can rest assured we’ll end up robbed in addition to murdered." Dorian rose on his tiptoes, trying to see better. He wasn’t a short man, but there were quite a lot of people trying to fit into what wasn’t that large of a space. "Now let's see, there must be some way past them," he said, though he seemed to be a lot more concerned with getting a view of the performers than he did with finding an exit.

On impulse Bull grabbed Dorian under the arms, lifting him and settling him on his shoulders, holding him steady with hands on his knees. Dorian made a customary fuss, tugging at Bull’s ear and demanding to be let down, but quickly settled down once a street performer stepped up on stage to announce they were beginning.

The acrobats were first. Dorian leaned forward, resting his arms on Bull’s horns. It wasn’t long before he was gasping along with the rest of the crowd.

Personally Bull would have preferred the Orlesian plays, but this.

Dorian let out a delighted laugh at a trick involving breathing fire.

This was nice too.

 

4.

Dorian hiked his coat up higher around his ears. “I will never be rid of this cold. It will settle in my bones and follow me to my grave.”

“Just a little further,” Bull soothed. He cupped a hand around Dorian’s shoulder, tugging him closer for warmth. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

“I can’t imagine what’s here that’s worth freezing to death.”

Up ahead was a small dilapidated hut, the front door half off its hinges and one side of the roof caved in. Steam was rising up through the hole in said roof.

Bull opened the door--in doing so accidentally ripping the door off its remaining hinge--and ushered Dorian inside.

Inside among remains of benches and religious artifacts was a natural stone pool, its surface bubbling and radiating heat.

“A hot spring,” Dorian breathed. “I’ve heard of these.”

“One of Thedas’ hidden wonders.” Bull settled the broken door back down over the doorway, trying to block out the cold. Even with all the holes in the roof, it felt a lot toastier already. “Not quite like a Tevinter bathhouse, but as close as you’re going to get out in the savage south. Used to be a tourist stop for pilgrimages. Touted it as having healing qualities, but I think it’s a little too out of the way and people forgot about it.”

“So then how do you know about this?” Dorian was already shrugging out of his coat.

“I know--”

“--some people, yes, so I’ve heard. At this point I’m half convinced you know half of Thedas.” He sidled up to Bull, tugging at the laces on his pants. “Now hurry. I’m still cold.”

It was a tight fit with the two of them in the pool, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

 

5.

“I’ve heard good things about this restaurant. I think you’ll like it,” Bull said, a jaunt to his step.

“No matter what you say, it won’t taste like home, I don’t care if one of their chefs is Tevinter.” But Dorian sounded intrigued despite himself, and Bull couldn’t stop the grin.

The man at the front entrance who greeted them spent a long time searching for their names in his little black book, and then said, tone heavy with feigned regret, “I’m sorry, but we have no reservations under that name.”

“Try ‘The Iron Bull,’” Dorian said. “Good chance he insisted on the ‘The’.’

But Bull, he had that heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. The greeter, oh he sounded contrite, but with those masks, hiding everything but the eyes, it could be hard to tell if that was genuine. Could have been an honest mistake, could have been Orlesian delicacies at play, not realizing they’d booked a Qunari and a ‘Vint till both were on the doorstep.

“That’s fine,” Bull said. “A honest mistake.” No need to cause a scene. Word might get back to boss, who didn’t need to know they’d started brawling at fancy restaurants.

Dorian seemed to have caught on. Anger was making his fists clench and his shoulders rise, almost like a bird ruffling its feathers before a fight.

“Not worth it,” Bull murmured, a hand on the small of Dorian’s back to steer him away. “I know a better place, anyway.”

The tavern was loud and noisy and warm, and the food was good. A few beers in, the scowl even started fading off Dorian’s face.

Though he had a speculative gleam in his eyes when they left.

 

+1

“Can I open my eye yet?” Bull rumbled, amused.

“No, not yet. We’re almost there, and yes, now.”

Bull opened his eye. They were merely back in his room at the tavern.

“So you took me on a blind walk around the hold just to get to my room? All you have to do is ask, it’s not that hard.”

Dorian was flushing. “No, it was this.” He gestured to the table, on which sat a variety of plates and bowls, covered with a sheet. “I asked Krem and the others to bring it up while we were gone.” Dorian went over and pulled off the sheet. “It was in that bookstore a while back. I found a scroll with recipes from around Thedas, and some in there were of Qunari origin. Not quite sure I got it right, or that the author wasn’t making it all up, but I tried. Some of the spices I couldn’t get, so I had to improvise. I just thought, since that restaurant in Orlais didn’t work, then maybe here--”

Bull startled him pulling him to him and giving him a kiss on his temple. “It’s very sweet,” he rumbled. “Thank you.”

Dorian sniffed and looked to the side, embarrassed but trying to play it off as haughty. “You haven’t even tried it yet. You have no idea if it’s sweet.”

It was spicy when it should have been sweet, and sweet when it should have been spicy. “Tastes just like I remember,” Bull told him.

“You’re a horrible liar,” Dorian said. “I’m never cooking for you again.” But he looked pleased.

Bull couldn't help the answering grin as he dished himself up a second plate.


End file.
